“In the end, we all become stories.” Derisè whispers to her child. “Margaret Atwood told us.”
Her left hand rises.
“There was a hummingbird. He set forth on this world to let loose the seed of the rainbow papaya. His partner is transforming our place was the fox. The fox driven by his interest in funding something better than gooseberries no eat. Mr Hummingbird was much to fast to be eaten. The fox liked him for that.” Desirè looks down at her little grandson.
“Why didn’t he eat something else?” Peter looks up at his Granny. ” Foxes sneak and grab everything.”
“Peter, everyone has roles to play and rules they must follow.” Desirè laughs “Mother Earth is the water barrier. She spills life. This life picks and chooses how they will help out the world.”
“But how does she know the animals are following what they have to do?” Peter moves his hands waving at the stars emerging in the purple of twilight.
“If you ever see an eye looking at someone’s window, she is there.” her voice becomes a laugh “We are at peace when every animal follows the plan. It is we, that she watches.”
Written as part of a challenge called Collage details are available at https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/08/06/writing-prompt-205-special-collage/
“Did you notice a girl? She ran be this way… maybe an hour ago.” Barry looks at his diminutive counterpart.
His eyes notice the old house. Great spidling detail with cracked flakes of paint that should have been white at one time.
“Seen noone, slick. It’s not where you turn a little piece run…. loose.” Sly spits out a watermelon seed. It beautifully arches ten feet landing on the toe of brand new white shoes.
Barry kicks toe clear of seed. “Its important. She isn’t the kind to be, well here.”
“You don’t like MY neighborhood?!” Sly sits up his fill four feet. He slips a knife through the watermelon. The blade slides effortlessly. A single stream of juice bleeds across the red table. But dark tiny eyes burn against Barry’s skin.
“Dude, just looking for my girl. I never spent time here. You circus people don’t seem to like…. My people being around. I feel the looks.” Barry standing slightly slumped. His back curls and he tries not to look normal. “Seriously, if you seen her..”
“You are what, a model? Us circus people are so judgemental. What would a normal girl do here? I’d love to have, say dinner with one like her.” Sly takes a napkin and wipes his mouth. The white napkin shows of his rudy hands with yellow nails.
“Did you see her?” Barry stands tall and steps toward the porch.
“See her?! We had mystery dinner tonite. It served twelve of us. I even had room for dessert.” Sly spits out a fingernail. The silver ombre tip catches the light. “Watermelon? It’s National Watermelon Day!”
“Is that what i think it is?!” Barry shakes.
“Genius it’s a watermelon!” Sly smiles a crooked smile.
This week’s photo prompt is provided by TJ Paris. Thank you TJ!
“Pine island only reachable by boat….. Or kayak” George’s voice peaks and finishes the pitch to get away.
“You are serious?! It’s a long way for a first trip.” Bridget knows the look on his face. “Someone owes me…if I do this.”
Bridget stares up at the Sun. The waves of turquoise wash over her. Her body rides the tide.
Her mind plays the conversion over and over again.
The scene of the two red kayaks on the beach. The soft wind plays on every sense. Smells of salt. Palm leaves flex and sing. Warm caress of the Sun. A weird sensation of blood in her mouth.
George briefly smiles. A sharp point about the shoulder blade. Bridget falls. George looks down upon her. Then the water covers her.
“A new start for us! I told you if i couldn’t have you… Noone would!” George smiles again.
Washed down in syrup
Another liquid fizz
Lingering need for more
The world versus me
They haven’t got a chance!
Teflon hero immune
To cause and others
Right by self-interest
Center attention resides
Places build up within others
Written on banner
Held hands high
Little Big Horn awaits
If you only know
Sharing isn’t caring
Leavening the field
Dragging you down here
Blame and hate
Chains keeping you down
Across all views
Problems involving everything
Excited drawing blood
Hoping pain caused
Damage little concern
One more million
One more collection
Things horridly glorious
Poor only want nothing
All that shines
All that glitters
Attention span withers
Dreams awash vision
Mind dances fancy thoughts
Incredible drowse embraces
My work drifts away
Soul joins the shadows
Flesh dripping taste
Candys last linger clings
Forbidden flavor always best
Touch builds memory
Desire creating scene
A long time ago there were eight capital sins, corrupted souls got lazy and combined aspects of a few. Besides 7 sounds better as deadly sins
This week’s photo prompt is provided by J.S. Brand. Thank you J.S. for our photo prompt!
“Mom tells me not to go there.” Rufus kicks a small stone watching it bounce down the street.
“You can’t go there. There are big kids up there. They’ll tear you apart!” Ralph truss taking sense to him.
“I’m going up there. Let’s both go up there. Its a real playground with swings.” Rufus stands and points up the hill.
“I’ll go halfway. But I’m not getting worked over by those big kids.” Ralph looks at his feet.
“Come on Ralphie. I’m going to the top. I’ll wave if no-one is up there. We can play like big kids!” Rufus smiles with a few missing teeth and runs up the stairs.
“Hey wait for me!” Ralph gets caught up and forgets to stop half way.
“See…. I …… told ….. you.” Rufus fights lack of breath to speak.
“There’s no-one here. There swings and slides and baseball diamonds. It’s all ours!” Ralph looks excited about the forbidden play ground. “I’m going to sit on merry-go-around till i can breath. Mom’s gonna kill is of she finds out we’re up here.”
“Don’t tell her then” Rufus replies
Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. details available at https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/07/17/fffaw-challenge-week-of-july-18-2017/
6. Nepenthe (n.)) A drug or drink, or the plant yielding it, mentioned by ancientwriters as having the power to bring forgetfulness of sorrow or trouble. anythinginducing a pleasurable sensation of forgetfulness, especially of sorrow ortrouble.)
12. Abdicate (v)) to renounce or relinquish a throne, right, power, claim,responsibility, or the like, especially in a formal manner )
Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem
The words can appear in an alternate form
Use the words in any order that you like.
Tag: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle
Four distinctive hunger pangs reappear in a vague threat that I may perish. Sadness slowly climbs to abdicate these feelings.
My own physician instincts kick in. Sallow hands delve into neolithic cures. Tall glass of nepenthe awaits.
Written as part of a challenge called Wordle, details available at https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/07/17/wordle-164/
The skin off my face flees. Scorn brutally digs at what was once me. The need for cream provides no salve. I hold a storm until my inner poet releases the pain.
That’s your love
Handling with care
Useless as words
Feeling should be glue
Not shrapnel or fodder
There are no openings
Just hardened glass inside
Someday never comes to you
Not as fast as you turn on others
You can’t take the warmth
You only chill the world to you.
Your last moment will pass alone
Far away from those like me
This week’s photo prompt is provided by Grant-Sud. Thank you Grand-Sud for our photo prompt!
Teddy surveys his ground. He stands at the edge of the rainbow world. The shadow of gloom awaits him. The nexis of the color fade crisis lies ahead.
“Solo spots of color dot the landscape. The other world is so dark. Not even leaves for their trees!” his voice filled in disbelief.
His eyes look over dark clothes. His dull tone speaks “Best to fit in. Why they tell that I’ll never know.”
In a flash he jumps down and descending stairs to the street.
Mr Crayola enters the dark world. One idea on how tokeep the darkness from wiping out rainbow world.
Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer details available at https://lfffaw-challenge-week-of-july-11-2017/
After the fire only ash remains
Curled grey fingerprints that hint
Solid things of matter gone
Fragile soul made of burnt dust
Dissolving by touch or breeze
Heat long escaped beyond
Embers that glowed red lond dead
Shatter debris in blacks and browns
Long past reach of the inferno
In the cool air smoke scents lightly
Smell alone gives afterlife
The fuel spent
The glory snuffed out
After the fire, only ash remains